"Sean's Gone" - Echo '08

Redskins Locker Room

This was written the day Sean Taylor died.
For the past few days I have searched for the
right words to say one year later ... and found none.

The raw immediacy may have passed,
but the emotional echoes remain.

Rather than grasping for new words, then,
removed as they must be from the truth of the moment,
I humbly offer here the words that poured out,
almost unbidden, on that cold, rainy day.

We have not forgotten.

***

"Sean's Gone"11/27/07

It’s not a long drive to my son’s high school, maybe 15 minutes.

Most mornings, we share sleepy wise cracks—which of us looks worse, whose day projects out the bigger pain, the lameness of a certain radio commercial.

Sometimes we talk daily routine—remembering to turn in an order form, calling if he needs to be picked up, the logistics of an upcoming outing with friends.

Sometimes we talk a little sports—Redskins, mostly.

Once in a while, as events dictate, we talk real life—there will be other girls, they just discovered an Earth-like planet 20 light-years away, it’s junior year partner, these grades count.

Tuesday morning, we rode in silence.

He’d had a strange look on his face as he came down the hall from the living room, where the morning news was playing, when we readied to leave the house. His voice had a flatness to it when he spoke.

“Sean’s gone.”

I wasn’t fully awake—I didn’t understand. Then I saw the look in his eyes, the awful news story I had fallen asleep thinking about came flooding back and I understood only too well. I don’t remember now if it was raining as we headed out into the dark, but it always will be in my memory.

As we were pulling out into the road a minute later, a voice on the car radio confirmed the reality.

“Washington Redskins safety Sean Taylor died this morning from a gunshot wound suffered in his home …”

We drove in silence, staring straight ahead.

I don’t really know if the time it took to get to the school took forever, or if it flashed by in an instant. Time has a strange quality to it in times of stress. What I do recall is the unsettling jumble of disjointed thoughts, feelings and impressions.

I remember thinking I should “say something.” My boy’s favorite athlete—in his eyes one of those larger-than-life figures we all hold up to the light that help form our young selves—had just been senselessly shot down in the prime of his life. I should be a rock. Paternal. Wise.

I thought I shouldn’t let him see me cry. A father teaches his son that men are steady in a storm. And then I thought I absolutely should let him see me cry. A father should teach his son there is not shame, but honor, in sharing his humanity.

I felt the onset of fury, the urge to say something—do something—about this insanity. About yet another needless violent death, about yet another fatherless child.

I felt the wearying, familiar heaviness in my chest, as just the latest in an endless parade of man’s-inhumanity-to-man headlines unfolded around me. They say one grows colder, harder inside as one gets older. That has not been my experience.

I thought about the burgundy “21” jersey hanging in my son’s closet … and how when we watch the games together, we always exchange—exchanged—knowing grins when a Redskin flashed into the screen to blow up an opposing runner, or an opposing receiver inexplicably short-armed a promising ball.

“Taylor.”

I tried to push away thoughts about the on-field impact this would have on my favorite football team, and wished I was the kind of man who didn’t have to remind himself there will be a time for that, and this was not it ...

Wow, my Son is 7 and a year ago, I had that same feeling on my face and in my body, Sean Taylor was to Football as, we are to breathing, it was beautiful to watch and i watch with envy, cause my son, still today, says "Daddy one day I will bring the hat like Sean Taylor", Sean Taylor, everytime you say it or think about it, it cut's like loosing a love one, and I really felt that bad, I walked around for days asking God, why did you have to take this one.......and Why now, I find myself after having a hard day, drinking some Cold Ones, I am on Google, looking a Sean Taylor Video's thinking, God dont make Sean Taylors anymore, there is no player close to the beast he is, when it comes to talent and fear, because in football, you have to have talent, and you must be feared. Sunday will be hard, just like every other day has been without him.........I miss you Sean, I miss you, you brought joy to our live's and if I am lucky enough to see my son, who loves football, so much play until he is an adult, I pray he has a touch of you in him. Good by brother...........Good by

Well written, Om. You summed up the gamut of thoughts and emotions felt that day very, very well. I am still so sad.

DarkKnight, you said it too. None of us actually knew him, yet losing him cut so deeply. I wept. Literally wept. I can say without shame that I truly LOVE the Redskins. I feel their losses and victories emotionally. I relate to the personalities of players and coaches. The Skins are a big part of my life. And losing Sean felt like losing a family member. I was devastated.

Every morning when I get dressed, I see my 21 jersey hanging in closet. It wasn't intentional, but it gives me some perspective every time I see it.

I am truly touched by these posts guys. There is nothing I can add to whats already been said. Even though we're really strangers to each other, I think we all share the same feelings about Sean's passing. It's amazing that one man, that most of us never had the priviledge of meeting, could instill such emotion in so many people. I miss him and think of him often.

Well written, Om. You summed up the gamut of thoughts and emotions felt that day very, very well. I am still so sad.

DarkKnight, you said it too. None of us actually knew him, yet losing him cut so deeply. I wept. Literally wept. I can say without shame that I truly LOVE the Redskins. I feel their losses and victories emotionally. I relate to the personalities of players and coaches. The Skins are a big part of my life. And losing Sean felt like losing a family member. I was devastated.

Every morning when I get dressed, I see my 21 jersey hanging in closet. It wasn't intentional, but it gives me some perspective every time I see it.

God bless you, Sean.

Thank You, I only said what came from my heart, I too love the Redskins with everything I got, when they loose, my week is sh*tty, but when I look on the field, and I see, Landry playing where he played, I am thinking, this kid is nice, and where lucky to have him, but Sean would have murdered that WR, or TE or RB, I bet Brandon Jacob's wouldn't have ran Sean Over.....anyway, this Sunday I will Celebrate at game time, when the game kick off, if everyone will join me, (at Kickoff Time) of holding up a can of your favorite beverage to the best got-damn, hard hitting, fearing Mo-fo to ever lace up......and saying "You the Man". I think thats away we all can celebrate together, to those who dont live in the city or can't make it to the game..........